[ Tuesday, 10:00 AM - Shinsegae Department Store, Gangnam ]
Money has a smell.
In the lower markets of Seoul, money smells like sweat, copper coins, and desperation. But here, on the 3rd floor of the Shinsegae Department Store—the "Hermès Floor"—money smelled like nothing.
It was a vacuum. A pristine, air-conditioned void where the air was scrubbed of all impurities, leaving only the faint, expensive scent of leather and lilies.
"Oppa, look! It spins!"
Kang Eun-ji pressed her face against the glass of a display case. Inside, a jeweled music box was rotating slowly.
She wasn't in her wheelchair today. She was using a pair of sleek, carbon-fiber crutches Jin-woo had ordered from Germany. She looked fragile, pale, and utterly enchanted.
"Do you like it?" Jin-woo asked, walking a step behind her, his hands in his pockets.
"It's pretty," Eun-ji whispered. Then she looked at the price tag. Her eyes bulged. "Ten million won?! That's... that's illegal! You can buy a car for that!"
Jin-woo smiled. "We aren't here for music boxes. We're here for clothes."
He looked at the shop staff.
There was no cliché rudeness here. No sneering salesgirl judging their appearance. The staff at Shinsegae were trained to spot real wealth, and they had seen the Black Amex Centurion card Jin-woo used to pay for the valet service downstairs.
Three attendants were already hovering, offering sparkling water and macarons on a silver tray.
"We have the new Autumn Collection prepared in the private salon, sir," the floor manager said, bowing deeply. "Would the young lady like to try them on?"
"Yes," Ji-eun said, stepping forward. She looked impeccable in a cream trench coat, playing the role of the 'Guardian'. But her hand was gripping her purse strap too tightly. "Something soft. Cashmere or silk. Nothing that scratches the skin."
"Right this way, Madame."
As Ji-eun and Eun-ji followed the manager toward the velvet curtains of the VIP section, Jin-woo stayed behind.
"I'll look at the ties," he said.
Ji-eun paused. She looked at him, her eyes darting nervously around the open floor. She felt it too. The weight of eyes.
"Don't wander off," she whispered.
"I won't," Jin-woo promised.
He watched them disappear behind the curtains. The gentle, brotherly smile on his face vanished instantly.
He turned around, his eyes scanning the open floor.
The store was quiet. A few other shoppers drifted between the racks—rich housewives, bored chaebol daughters, businessmen on lunch breaks. To anyone else, it looked like a normal Tuesday morning.
To Jin-woo, it looked like a trap.
[ TRUTH EYE: ACTIVE ]
The world washed out into grey. Heat signatures flared. Heartbeats became audible rhythms.
Scan.
Target A: Woman in Chanel suit. Heart rate 65. Civilian.
Target B: Shop assistant folding shirts. Heart rate 72. Civilian.
Target C: Man in the grey suit, pretending to examine a belt near the exit. Heart rate: 58. Controlled. He wasn't looking at the belt. He was looking at the reflection in the brass pillar, watching the VIP room.
Jin-woo walked toward a rack of silk ties. He moved casually, sliding his hand over the fabric.
He's good, Jin-woo thought. Hansung Intelligence Team? Or a private contractor?
The man in the grey suit didn't flinch. He was a professional. He knew how to blend in. He was just another customer.
Jin-woo picked up a tie. It was a deep, forest green.
He walked toward the mirror. The angle allowed him to see the Grey Suit perfectly.
The man had a small earpiece. He tapped it once, barely a flicker of movement.
"Target female is in the salon. Target male is browsing accessories. Sector clear."
Jin-woo didn't heard what he said but noticed his jaw movement.
Jin-woo turned.
He didn't walk away. He walked directly toward the man.
The Grey Suit stiffened. For a split second, the professional mask slipped. He hadn't expected the target to approach. He quickly picked up a leather belt, pretending to inspect the stitching.
Jin-woo stopped right next to him. They were shoulder to shoulder, looking at the display table.
"It's poor quality," Jin-woo said softly.
The man froze. "Excuse me?"
"The leather," Jin-woo said, picking up the belt the man was holding. "It's calfskin, but the grain is uneven. Not worth the price."
The man forced a polite smile. "I suppose you're right. I was just looking."
"You've been looking for twenty minutes," Jin-woo said. He didn't look at the man. He was busy adjusting the green tie around his own neck in the mirror. "And you haven't looked at a single price tag."
The air between them dropped ten degrees.
The sounds of the department store—the soft jazz, the distant chatter—seemed to fade away, leaving them in a bubble of suffocating tension.
The man dropped the pretense. He turned slowly to face Jin-woo. His eyes were cold, hard, and calculating.
"You're observant for a student," the man said quietly.
"And you're sloppy for a spy," Jin-woo replied.
Jin-woo turned to face him. He stepped into the man's personal space.
"Chairman Lee sent you?"
The man didn't answer. He didn't have to.
"Tell me," Jin-woo whispered, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. "Does the Chairman know that you are currently standing within arm's reach of the person he is hunting?"
The man chuckled. A low, arrogant sound.
"You think you're the hunter, kid? I have a team in the lobby. I have a team in the garage. We know where you live."
He leaned in, a smirk playing on his lips.
"And we know about the little cripple you keep in the penthouse. Does she like the view?"
[ Silence. ]
The background noise of the department store didn't just fade. It ceased to exist.
Jin-woo didn't blink. He didn't breathe.
Inside his mind, a chain snapped. His mind went blank.
[ SYSTEM WARNING: HOST PSYCHE DESTABILIZING. ] [ EMOTIONAL REGULATION: FAILED. ] [WARNING] [WARNING]
The world turned red.
Jin-woo didn't see a man in a suit anymore. He saw a piece of meat that needed to be dismantled.
Throat. Carotid artery. 4 pounds of pressure. Tear. Bleed out. 45 seconds to death. No. Too fast. Eyes. Thumbs. Push until the skull cracks. 3 minutes of screaming.
Jin-woo took one step.
The marble floor tile beneath his leather shoe cracked with a sharp snap.
The air in the menswear section became heavy, thick like sludge. It was a tangible pressure, a Killing Intent so dense it felt like gravity had doubled.
The spy's smirk vanished. His instincts, honed by years of intelligence work, screamed one word: DEATH.
He tried to step back, but his legs wouldn't move. His body was paralyzed by primal fear.
Jin-woo reached out.
He didn't grab the man's collar. He placed his hand gently on the man's neck.
It looked intimate. It looked like a friend fixing a tie.
But the spy felt five steel pistons digging into his windpipe, closing off his air with agonizing slowness.
[ SYSTEM ALERT: HEART RATE 180 BPM. ] [ WARNING: HOST IS ABOUT TO COMMIT PUBLIC HOMICIDE. ] [ ADVISORY: CEASE ACTION. POLICE RESPONSE TIME IS 3 MINUTES. ] [ CEASE ACTION. CEASE ACTION. ]
Jin-woo ignored the red boxes flashing in his vision. He ignored the sirens ringing in his ears.
He leaned in. His eyes were devoid of light. The pupils had dilated until his eyes were entirely black.
"Say that again," Jin-woo whispered.
His voice wasn't human. It was a low, vibrating growl that resonated in the spy's chest bones.
"Say her name again. And I will pull your tongue out through your throat."
The spy gagged, clawing at Jin-woo's hand. His eyes rolled back, capillaries bursting in the whites of his eyes. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak. He was staring into the abyss.
[ SYSTEM EMERGENCY INTERVENTION ] [ ELECTRIC SHOCK ADMINISTERED TO HOST NERVOUS SYSTEM. ]
ZAAAAAP.
A jolt of pain shot up Jin-woo's arm.
Jin-woo blinked. The red haze receded slightly. The logic returned.
Not here, the logical part of his brain whispered. Not in front of Eun-ji.
He loosened his grip.
The spy collapsed against the display table, gasping, coughing violently, clutching his bruised throat. Tears streamed down his face. He looked at Jin-woo with the terror of a man who had just seen the Devil.
Jin-woo stood over him, smoothing down his own blazer. He took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing the monster back into its cage.
[ SYSTEM: HOST STABILIZED. ] [ THREAT LEVEL: CONTAINED. ]
Jin-woo picked up the green silk tie from the table. His hands were steady now, the adrenaline locked away behind a wall of cold calculation.
He draped the tie gently over the gasping man's shoulder.
"A gift," Jin-woo said softly. "For the Chairman."
The spy stared up at him, wheezing, clutching his bruised throat.
"Tell him it's a tip," Jin-woo said, his voice dripping with icy amusement. "For the entertainment. I haven't watched such a clumsy performance in years."
The spy flinched. The insult was sharp. Jin-woo wasn't just dismissing him; he was dismissing the entire Hansung Intelligence Network as a joke.
Jin-woo leaned in, his shadow falling over the terrified man.
"As for you..."
Jin-woo smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Be grateful."
The spy blinked, tears stinging his eyes. "W-what?"
"Be grateful that my sister is in the next room," Jin-woo murmured, his thumb brushing the spot on the spy's neck where he had almost crushed the windpipe. "If she wasn't here... you'd beg for quick end."
He patted the man's shoulder, dusting off an invisible speck of lint.
"Now run along. Before I change my mind."
Jin-woo turned his back on him.
He didn't watch the man scramble away. He didn't need to. He walked back toward the VIP salon, checking his reflection in the brass pillar to make sure his mask was perfect.
"Oppa!" Eun-ji's voice rang out from inside. "Come see! I look like a marshmallow!"
Jin-woo stepped through the curtain, the loving brother once more.
"I bet you're the cutest marshmallow in the world," he said warmly.
But behind him, the department store floor was empty. The predator had cleared his territory without spilling a single drop of blood.